


A Face Turned Backwards

by Dreamwind



Series: The Secret Life of Danny Williams [2]
Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010), Original Work
Genre: Fantasy, Gen, Magic-Users, Murder, Murder Mystery, Police, Urban Fantasy, Vampires, Were-Creatures
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-25
Updated: 2016-07-25
Packaged: 2018-07-26 18:19:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7585036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dreamwind/pseuds/Dreamwind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a copy of the book that Danny is writing in my fanfic "The Secret Life of Danny Williams." The characters in this story are based on Danny and people he knows, but doesn't actually involve Danny or any of the Hawaii Five-0 cast. This is just a companion piece to "The Secret Life of Danny Williams" and you do not have to read it in order to understand the fanfic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Face Turned Backwards

**A Face Turned Backwards**  
**A New Jersey Paranormal Crimes Division Novel**

**By W.J. Daniels**

 

  
  
**Chapter 1**  
  
    It all started at 1:30 am, on a frigid December morning in Newark. Well, it actually started centuries ago before the fall of the Roman Empire, but for the ease of telling this story I will skip ahead to the cold December morning. December in Newark isn't necessarily a pleasant time. Sure the pictures on the Internet, and postcards in the mom an' pop shops, look all nice. Street lamps wrapped up in fake evergreen, tinsel, or lights, with little towers of snow on the tops, icicles dripping faintly off the bottom of the lamps. The shops all decorated for the holidays, and normally bland cement sidewalks blanketed in white snow. Yeah, those images were far more perfect than what I saw and experienced on a daily basis. And it sure as shit wasn't as nice when poor Joe Torrino went to shovel the snow off the sidewalk in front of his bakery only to find the body of Franklin Pierce sprawled out before him.

  
    Being a seasoned native of New Jersey, Joe gave the body the "Newark Once-Over" - a quick glance to determine if this was a drunk, a crazy, or a person in distress. The fact that it was entirely possible to be all three simultaneously is why good-Samaritanism in Newark, and the greater New York area, is considered an extreme sport - like BASE jumping or crocodile wrestling. Joe, being the sober man he was, was quick to note that the body was dressed in a rather expensive, well-tailored suite, and had pegged the body as belonging to a drunk, when he happened to notice it's clothing was on backwards.

  
    Well, it wasn't actually that the clothes were on backwards so much as it was just that the face appeared to have been twisted around so that it was facing up at Joe, while it's chest faced the sidewalk.

      
    As Joe noted, to the responding officers conducting the interview, it was a good thing he'd still been half asleep or else he would have wasted time screaming and running about - especially once he realized the face was turned backwards. Instead, with the slow methodical patience of the drunk and the sleep deprived, Joe Torrino dialed 911 and asked for the police.

  
    The police dispatcher contacted the closest unit available and the first officers arrived on the scene not even six minutes later. One officer stayed with a suddenly wide awake Joe Torrino, while the second officer went to check that there was a body and that everything else being equal, it probably wasn't a case of accidental death. Not that having your face turned backwards is ever accidental, but a good officer knows to check just in case. Once the second officer walked over to the body and confirmed that it's face was looking one way and it's body was facing the other, the responding officer reported back to dispatch, who altered the Major Crimes Division, whose duty officer, the most junior detective on the team, arrived half an hour later. He took one look at the backwards facing man and contacted his division chief. With that the whole hustle and bustle of the Major Crimes Division descended onto Joe's Bakery and the blocks in either direction from it's entrance.

  
    The coroner arrived to certify death, make a preliminary assessment of the cause of death, and to cart the body away to the morgue for a more through postmortem examination. The forensic teams arrived shortly after in their normal high-handed fashion and, to prove that they were the important ones, demanded that the secure perimeter be extended to cover the space stretching across the road and to the buildings on the other side. To do this they needed more uniforms at the scene, so the lead investigator was forced to call to dispatch again and request any free uniforms to spare. The shift commander hearing the subtle wording of "overtime," marched into the break room and volunteered everyone waiting to start their shifts, or just getting ready to end it. Thus the perimeter was expanded, searches were made, junior detectives were sent off on mysterious errands, and finally at five am it was called to a halt.

  
    The body was gone, evidence was gathered, questions were asked, and the forensics people had finally agreed there was nothing more that could be done. Until the higher ups gave the 'said so,' they just needed a few uniformed officers to guard the immediate perimeter in front of the shop until everything was tidied up and paperwork was filed. It was only an hour or so after this that my partner, Roberto Alvarez, and myself rolled up to the scene. The uniforms on guard duty gave us the hairy eyeball as we approached, their hands slipping off the guns only after we flashed our badges.

  
    "Detective Lieutenant Roberto Alvarez, NJPCD, with Detective Sargent William Tate. This crime scene has been handed over to our department," stated Roberto. "Let us take a look around, and then you boys can take off."

  
    "You certain, sir," asked one of the uniformed officers.

  
    "Certain as the winter storms." Roberto grinned good naturedly at them.

  
    “Alright then,” replied the uniformed officer. “We’ll radio ahead for you boys so the uni’s inside know to expect you.”

  
    “Thanks,” Will replied with a grin.

  
    The two of us stepped under the crime scene tape and walked the length of the block until we stepped past the spot where the body had been found, and made our way inside the bakery. The front of the shop was empty except for a few lingering notebooks sitting next to one of the crime scene techs cases. Hushed voices could be heard from the back of the shop, and I turned to look at Roberto. He had noticed the techs case sitting on the counter as well, and like me, found it odd. The techs were typically pretty anal-retentive about leaving their things unsupervised at a crime scene. They never wanted to be the ones blamed for contamination of evidence, if they could push the blame onto someone else. So the fact that one of them had left their supplies out in the open was a bit worrying.

  
    Roberto motioned me to move silently as we got closer to the door leading to the back of the bakery. Following his lead, I wiggled my fingers and released the Faerie Fire that came so easy to me. Roberto was so used to seeing the flickering violet and teal flames that would light up my hands, that he didn't even glance in my direction as they came to life. Most people didn't think of Faerie Fire as something dangerous. After all my whole hand was on fire but didn't appear to be burning. They never realized how dangerous it was until they were actually faced with someone using it. Faerie Fire, for those of you who don't know is a very specialized magic, but it is also extremely flexible. Something most magic isn't. The fact that I was on the NJPCD was entirely because I was able to use it, when mortals shouldn't be able to. But that is something for another time, right now I really needed to be focusing more on what could be on the other side of the door waiting for us.

  
    There was always a distinct possibility in New Jersey of something supernatural going on behind closed doors. The “Muggle” mobs hadn’t been able to get a foothold in New Jersey since the early eighteen hundreds when the vampire kisses moved in. The Vamps controlled much of the state, though they stayed mostly to the big cities, leaving the smaller towns and forests to the tharianthropes, sidhee, and other magic users who had been there before the Europeans, or who had come with them. Since we were in Hoboken we were more likely to run into one of Gualtiero’s baby vamps, known as Ambroginos in the language of the vampire courts, but there was always the possibility of stumbling across one of Semele’s Ambroginos who had crossed the boundaries into Gualtiero’s territory. The two vamps had been fighting for control of area for almost seventy years now, with Semele gaining control of Newark, while Gualtiero gained control of Hoboken. Both of them fought each other regularly in the hopes of gaining the other’s territory, Ambroginos, and Renfields, while simultaneously gaining favor with the local Blood King, Akeldama, the head of all Vampire Kisses along the east coast.

  
    So as we came to a stop by the door and weren’t immediately attacked by a pissed off vampire, it became obvious that whoever was on the other side of the door had to be human. A magic user would have felt us gather magic to form spells as we approached, the sidhee wouldn’t be caught dead dealing with benign mortal affairs like this, and the vamps and therianthropes would have heard, or smelt us approaching. So mortal it was.

  
    Roberto eased the door open a crack, looking inside were the two uni’s who had been stationed inside stood with a man dressed up like one of our CSIs. The man in the CSI uniformed wasn’t anyone I had met before, but that didn’t mean anything given that several new people had joined the ranks of techies in the last couple weeks. Still, something about him pinged my internal Bullshit Meter. Sharing a look with Roberto, who seemed to feel the same way, I stepped back out of the way of the door, moving silently towards the front of the shop, where I waved the uni’s outside closer. A few quick words and they were calling for back-up and confirmation from the CSIs that they had sent another tech to the scene. A hardening to the older uni’s eyes told me all I needed to know, and I moved back to my partner.

  
    He had a look of intense concentration on his face, and as I stepped beside him, I understood why. He had cast a cantrip that would allow him to clearly hear what was going on inside the room behind the door. The voices behind the door were arguing in heated whispers about prices and clean-up options.

  
    “Life can be made very hard, or very pleasant for you boys. My boss doesn’t care which option you choose, but it would be in your best interest to pick one before the NJPCD gets here.” The voice was near frantic with it’s hostility, as if the speaker had not expected to come across so much resistance to his proposal. “Be wise. Think of your family. Twenty grand can do a lot of good, and all you have to do is -“

  
    “Nothing. You can take your offer and skip town, Renfield.”

  
    “Mac, maybe we should consider-“ came the nervous whisper from the younger cop.

  
    “No. Don’t even think of going down that path, Fredricks. You haven’t seen what the NJPCD can do to a cop that’s found to be in the pocket of the blood suckers. Hell, you saw the body we found outside. The man was probably killed by this rat’s master. You wanna end up like that if one of ‘em deaders decides he’s tired of your ‘help’?”

  
    The second cop remained quiet in the face of the certainty of his partner. The Renfield seemed to only get more anxious as any shot to clean up the mess the vamps had left outside got further from his grasp. I glanced at Roberto again, noting the expression on his face. Based on the description of the body he had already started to think the vampires had to be involved somehow. Normal humans just wouldn’t have the strength to twist a person’s head around like that.

  
    “The Prince had nothing to do with the murder! He wants this solved as much as you, but you know the NJPCD wouldn’t believe anything one of the vampires had to say. Not after what happened last month.”

  
    “Detective Alvarez is a fair man,” sneered the first uni. “If the vamps really had nothing to do with this, then they shouldn’t have to fear him. And honestly,” the uni chuckled darkly, “I didn’t think deaders like your master admitted they feared anything. Let alone to two mortal detectives, like Alvarez and Daniels.”

  
    “They don’t!” The Renfield was breathing harshly now. “But they don’t want their names besmirched by false claims that they had anything to do with this.”

  
    Obviously having heard enough, Roberto pushed the door open and strode into the kitchen. “Then you may tell Prince Gualtiero that he can come to our office and tell us his side of the story directly.”

  
    The Renfield, a rather boringly average looking man, keened a little as he caught sight of us standing in the doorway. His hands twisted over each other nervously, sweat beading his brow, making his carefully styled dark blond hair droop out of place.

  
    “Scurry away little rat before I decide to arrest you for obstruction of justice,” Roberto stated in a calm, cool voice, the fingers on his left hand twitching in small fast movements of a silent cantrip.

  
    Not having to think about it twice, the Renfield ran towards the back door of the kitchen, fleeing into the alley behind the building. I watched him go, the small flare of green on his back fading as the tracking cantrip to hold of him. He would run back to Gualtiero’s side even knowing the risk that the master vampire might kill him for not completing his mission. But in the off chance the Renfield did run rather than head to his master’s side, we would be able to track him down.

  
    “Detective Alvarez,” greeted the older of the two uni’s watching my partner and I with slight awe. “Glad you could make it, sir.”

  
    After the last couple years we, mostly Roberto, had gained a pretty strong reputation among both our fellow police officers and the local preternaturals for being able to solve the near impossible. Roberto had quite the reputation before I became his partner, but since I met him and my own latent abilities were awakened, that reputation had spiraled nearly out of control. The preternaturals had always jokingly called him Grim, because he always looked grim when working a case, but also because of the animal form he was able to take on. Outside work he was one of the most jovial guys I know, but facing things from your nightmares on a daily basis tended to screw with you a bit. Recently the preternaturals in the state, especially in the city, had started to call me Reaper. The other officers having caught wind of it often simply referred to us as Grim Reaper. It was fairly accurate considering that by law we were the ones who executed any of the preternaturals who were found guilty of a crime punishable by death.

  
    “Officer Sewell,” greeted Roberto. “Glad to see you are still holding your ground against the vamps.”

  
    Officer Sewell snorted. “Like they could offer anything to me that would make me kowtow to one of them.” He looked at the younger officer who was nervously trying to inch behind him out of Roberto’s line of sight. “Don’t worry about the kid here, it’s his first week on the job. He’ll be a good officer once he’s gotten his street legs under him.”

  
    “Good to hear.” Roberto looked back towards the door we had entered through as the sound of sirens reached our ears. “Back up arrived late as usual. Fortunately you had everything under control.”

  
    The four of us made our way back out of the kitchen and into the front of the shop in time to see the police cars pull to a stop outside the crime scene tap. Two more uniformed officers, Detective Sargent Nguyen, and Detective Sargent Holt, slide out of their cars with practiced ease, eyes sharply eyeing the scene. They spotted us right away and Nguyen sighed dramatically at the sight of us. She always sighed when she saw us. Mostly because it usually ended up in her having to fill out double the normal amount of paperwork.

  
    “What have you two gotten into now,” she demanded as she strode through the door.

  
    “Nothing to worry about yet.” Roberto nodded in the direction of the CSI tech case on the counter. “A Renfield disguised as a CSI was here trying to buy off Sewell and Holt. Gualtiero is worried about us being on this case.”

  
    “Son of a-“ Nguyen cursed loudly. “Did the Renfield compromise the scene?”

  
    “No, ma’am,” Sewell calmly assured her. “We thought it odd that one would return to the scene without having dispatch notify us, so we waylaid him before he could compromise anything.”

  
    “Good.” She looked sharply over the two uni’s. “I take it you were both wise enough not to succumb to temptation.”

  
    Both officers responded promptly, assuring her that they had not taken whatever bribe the Renfield had been trying to use to get them to help him. I stepped away to look over the notebooks by the case while they updated Roberto and the others as to what had happened since the Renfield arrived on the scene. By the time we were done here the two officers would likely be back at HQ with Nguyen looking through a book of photos of all known Renfields in the city. Knowing Roberto he would have them look over ID photos of all the CSIs as well in case the Renfield was in fact a real CSI. Not something any of us wanted to contemplate. Digging out the corruption from the department was always a pain in the ass. One of the preternaturals, usually the vamps, managed to get one of their people into the police department every year. And though we couldn’t prove it yet, Roberto and I were fairly sure that at least one police chief, and several other officers spread throughout the city, were on the vamps payroll.

  
    Flipping through the notebooks I found it to be mostly empty. The address of the bakery was listed along with Joe Torrino’s name, both circled in red. There were two other pages filled with names, some of which were crossed out in red ink. The names were for the most part unknown to me. I recognized two of the crossed out names from recent obituaries, and another one as the street name of a drug dealer who had been making inroads into the city recently. Gandalf was the street name of a wizard turned dealer who had recently moved into the borders of Gualtiero’s territory. He wasn’t big time, and the drugs he was pushing were mostly pot and a magical version of Ecstasy. Neither of which was all that harmful in the  grand scheme of drugs, so the vamps would likely ignore him until he pushed too hard into their territory, or until he started pushing something worse.

  
    Pocketing the notebook, I opened the case and began to go through it’s contents, taking stock of all the standard items and all the unusual items. Items like a stack of Japanese ofuda, several small potions vials (including a blood removal potion), a bag of rune stones, and a voodoo doll. It looks like our little Renfield’s talent might just be magic.


End file.
